


Compliance and Sedition: Hawke

by TCRegan



Series: Compliance and Sedition [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Anders gets on the boat to flee Ferelden and is sold into slavery instead. In Tevinter, he is purchased by Danarius and forms an unlikely relationship with Danarius's bodyguard, Fenris.</p><p>Several months after helping to break Anders' chains, Hawke deals with his own feelings for the former slave, Kirkwall's insanity, and the mage underground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing Fenris's arc, I wanted to bring more closure to Hawke, who had to deal with the moral dilemma of possibly having feelings for Anders. Plus, endgame funtimes with a bit of an AU kick to it. Hawke's chapters are a bit shorter and the arc overall is smaller as more of a way to wrap up loose ends and produce the happy ending that I wanted.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone for the lovely comments and support. Really appreciate it. ^_^

Hawke toed open the door of the clinic, carrying a bundle of linens. Three months now this place had been Anders' sanctuary. Though the man didn't care to be alone most of the time, he found peace in helping the less fortunate, and Kirkwall had no shortage of them. Inside, Anders was kneeling, hand on a young boy's shoulder while the boy's mother stood to the side, smiling broadly. Hawke waited patiently.

"So don't eat any strange plants when you're not sure what they are, okay?" Anders asked, and the boy nodded.

The mother thanked Anders, offering him coin. Anders shook his head, folding her fingers back over the coppers.

"You keep it. Make sure he has a good supper."

"Maker watch over you, serah," she said reverently and shepherded her son out, smiling at Hawke as she passed. 

Hawke watched her go before turning back to Anders, who took the fresh linens from him.

"Give Orana my thanks," he said, dumping the pile on a large table.

"She's really coming into her own," Hawke said. "Even spent some of her earnings." He seemed to be forming something of a habit, assisting former slaves and finding them jobs and activities.

He helped Anders fold. It was their weekly routine. Bandages that could be salvaged, blankets, tablecloths, handkerchiefs, anything that was reusable Anders would drag up to the estate through the cellar at the beginning of the week's end, and a day later Orana would have them washed and dried and ready to go for another round. Hawke enjoyed these moments alone with Anders, as they were often so busy during the week to even sometimes have a meal together. Or Anders would deign to spend his free time with Fenris. He alternated between sleeping in a guest room (Anders' room, Hawke thought of it now) and staying at the dilapidated mansion. Though Fenris was starting to make repairs, Hawke noticed.

"A package came," Hawke said.

"Oh? Anything to do with…" Anders asked, inclining his head toward the sea, in the direction of the Gallows.

If there was one good thing that came of Anders' rehabilitation it was his vested interest in the mages that were stuck in the Gallows. Hawke managed to find the name that Anders was searching for – an enchanter called Karl Thekla. He'd been transferred from the Ferelden Circle years ago, but lately he was confined to quarters. Thrask had some distressing news regarding that. While Karl hadn't been made Tranquil, he was on a short list of Alrik's. It was only a matter of time before he was broken or turned.

"No, I'm sorry," Hawke said. "No new word yet."

Anders nodded, tight-lipped. He looked down, focusing on laundry. "So," he said, his voice a bit quieter, "what was the package?"

"Well there was a staff. Yours, I'm guessing. I didn't want to bring it down. Too conspicuous. Looked valuable. And…" Hawke said, pulling a bag from the pile, "some personal things."

Anders frowned, taking the cloth bag. "A staff? I already have one." He undid the buckle and looked in, then suddenly stopped. His eyes went wide.

"What is it?" Hawke asked. He'd seen the contents as they were addressed to him, but they were mostly unremarkable. "The letter that came with said they were locked in an old vault of… his." He knew that even saying Danarius's name sometimes upset Anders. "They only just remembered and cleared it out, sent the things here. Are they yours?"

Anders withdrew a small, battered, hand embroidered pillow. He ran his fingers over the stitching reverently, then brought it to his chest, hugging tightly. Hawke shifted uncomfortably, watching as Anders shut his eyes against tears.

"Hey," he said, stepping forward, hand on his shoulder. "Anders, what is it?"

"This," Anders whispered, "this… my mother made this. It was the only thing I was allowed to take to the Circle when the Templars took me from her." He swallowed hard. "I kept it with me through everything. And… Maker, I thought this was lost forever." His chest hitched and he sobbed. "I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes.

"No, Anders, it's okay," Hawke said. "You don't have to apologize."

"Hawke, you don't know what this means to me," Anders said, looking up at him. "You really, truly don't. You can't possibly… Thank you. This is the most important…"

Hawke was about to tell him it was nothing. That it didn't matter. But then Anders was in his arms, clutching tightly, pillow sandwiched between them. He returned the hug, holding him, rubbing his back as Anders cried quietly. Maker, how many times had he seen Anders break down in the last three months? Too many. And he knew Anders had nightmares, had heard him in the middle of the night. But Fenris was there to take care of him. Hawke had no place. Fenris assured him it was just a process, just something that Anders had to go through, that they had to work through together.

"Thank you," Anders said, stepping back.

"Sure. Sure thing," Hawke said, nodding. "You uh… you going to be all right?"

Anders nodded with a sniff. He put the pillow back in the bag and set it on his desk. "I will. I think. Help me with the larger sheets?" he asked, clearing his throat.

Relieved that the bout of emotion had passed, Hawke helped him fold, watching him closely. It wasn't fair, he thought. Anders had come into his life like a bolt of lightning, striking hard and fast. And suddenly he'd found himself in the middle of the most unorthodox relationship he'd ever been in. It scared him how deeply scarred Anders was. Still was, even now. And there were times that Hawke thought he saw a shadow of the old slave. Anders hated loud, sudden noises and preferred not to be at the Hanged Man in the evenings with so many people. Which gave Fenris the perfect excuse to bow out of any social gatherings. Hawke was trying to keep the group together, but it seemed to be splintering. And he was at the center.

"I was talking to Selby," Anders said, putting the linens away. "Alrik's going to Orlais next week."

Hawke frowned, settling himself down on a crate. "Why?"

"Val Royeaux, orders from the revered mother there, apparently. With Alrik gone, we can take a look and see what he's been doing. There's a path underneath the city that goes directly under the Gallows. Selby told me about it… it's how the Underground's been working."

"Selby told _you_?" Hawke asked, feeling only slightly bad when Anders winced. "I've been helping them out almost since I set foot in the city and she told you about this instead of me?"

Anders gripped the edge of the table he'd been leaning against, knuckles turning white. He looked like he was going to throw up, knees shaking a bit.

"Oh bloody flames," Hawke said, standing and crossing the space to him. Anders flinched, looking away, but Hawke put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not mad, Anders. Listen to me." He brought a hand to Anders' cheek and pulled him around to face him. "I'm not angry. All right?"

Anders nodded, taking several deep breaths. "I'm sorry." He seemed to come back to himself, from whatever dark place he would go when things here reminded him too much of his life in Tevinter.

"Don't apologize. It's a work in progress, right?" Hawke said encouragingly, clapping him gently on the arm. "So the Gallows?"

The clinic door opened and Hawke looked over. His excitement for news of the Underground fizzled and burned out, seeing Fenris enter. The feeling, it seemed, was mutual as Fenris's quirk of a smile faded to a scowl as he laid eyes on Hawke. He carried a basket and a bottle of wine and laid both on a table before addressing them.

"Hawke," he said, giving him the briefest of nods before leaning up and kissing Anders.

Hawke looked away. He wondered if Fenris did it on purpose. Wondered if the elf knew how uncomfortable it made him. He kept his opinions and his feelings to himself, but it was difficult to be near them when they were so… happy. Not that Hawke didn't think they deserved it. Never mind the fact that it was odd to see Fenris so affectionate, he personally had grown very fond of Anders. It was only a week ago that his feelings for the healer seemed to change, his dreams taking on a baser nature. It was no longer about saving his friends from certain doom, but how one in particular would thank him. That Anders seemed to be fond of physical contact – touching his hands, his arms, hugging him – didn't help matters. And there were only so many times he could fantasize about those touches without feeling like a lecher.

"I brought lunch for us," Fenris said, setting the bottle and the basket down. "I didn't realize Hawke was here."

"We were discussing the Underground."

"Mm," Fenris muttered.

Anders rolled his eyes good-naturedly before digging into the basket. "Fenris doesn't like the idea of freeing the mages here. He thinks they'll turn into magisters." He reached over and patted Fenris's hand fondly.

Fenris scoffed. "I'm aware of the difference between mages who want their freedom and those who just want power."

"Oh really?" Hawke asked. "Because over the last few years you were quick to hate all mages and condemn them as power-hungry slave-owners."

"People change, Hawke," Anders said gently, before Fenris could respond. "And once we help the mages in Thedas, we'll return to Tevinter to free the slaves. I hope you'll go with us when that time comes."

Hawke didn't want to think about it. It seemed every day they drew closer to the end of something. "It might be a ways off. I don't like to plan too far ahead," he said evasively with a wink. "So next week," he prompted.

Anders nodded. "Fenris can come with us. We could use the extra muscle."

"Where am I going?" Fenris asked, but his tone was affectionate as he pushed the basket even closer to Anders.

Anders took out another bread roll. "Under the Gallows."

"I'm not sure Selby would want…" Hawke began.

Anders shrugged. "It's not her call. And the three of us can be more discreet than a pack of sympathizers with less power. If we run into any Templars, we can handle it."

"Sneaking into the Gallows and possibly killing Templars," Fenris said. "Of course, why would we want to maintain a low profile?"

Anders put the roll down to take his hands. "Please?"

Hawke watched the interaction. It was such a strange thing. If it was him asking, Fenris would likely have told him off in a very colorful way. But the elf melted with Anders' touch. And why not? Anders was extremely convincing. Sweet and passionate, altruistic. Almost to a fault. Fenris tried to maintain his stony countenance, but his resolve cracked and he smiled slightly, nodding. Anders leaned down and kissed him in thanks. Hawke sighed quietly and started out.

"Hawke?" Anders asked, pulling away from Fenris.

"I'll leave you to it for now," Hawke said over his shoulder. "But I'll be in touch about next week. The night Alrik leaves we should head down."

Anders nodded. "Thank you, Hawke," he said sincerely. "If we can find Karl…"

"We will," Hawke said, though he didn't feel as confident as he sounded. Still, even if it was a lie, it was worth it to see Anders smile at him.

Not wanting the visit to turn awkward, Hawke left, shutting the door behind him, but leaned against it, listening.

"Why was he here?" Fenris's voice.

"Dropping off some bedding and bandages. And… my mother's pillow. Remember I told you about that?"

"You thought that was lost. Let me see – Oh. That's beautiful, Anders. I'm glad you have it again."

Hawke could almost hear Anders' smile. And this time, it was for Fenris, not for him.

"You didn't need to bring me food. I can take care of myself, you know. You don't have to feed me every day," Anders said, but his tone was light, teasing.

"If I don't, you'll forget."

"I can't help it if I get busy, love."

Silence. Hawke could imagine why. Irritated and irrationally jealous, he made his way back up into his estate in order to find something to distract him from the new, unwanted feelings.


	2. Chapter 2

Hawke avoided Fenris and Anders for the rest of the week, keeping himself busy by running errands and taking on extra jobs, asking Aveline if she needed any help with patrols. The Guard appreciated his backup and in the evenings, he would go with them to The Bucking Bronto, a tavern in Hightown that was just the wrong side of proper. He didn't quite fit in with the rest of them, missing a lot of inside jokes and references to people he hadn't met. But they paid for the drinks and the ale was measurably more palatable up here than in the Hanged Man. He thanked Donnic and the others and wound his way home, fumbling in his pocket for his key.

"We know what you've been up to, Champion."

His vision blurry, Hawke vaguely recognized the uniform of the Kirkwall Guard. But he'd just left them, hadn't he? "Been drinking," he slurred.

"Don't play smart with us, Champion," the leader said, stepping into his personal space.

Hawke counted perhaps six, but heard movement behind him as well. He was far too drunk for this nonsense tonight. "Right. Well. Good night."

He should've expected the first punch. If he'd been sober, he could've blocked it. Sent a force wave to knock them all off their feet, then light them on fire if necessary. Pain radiated from his jaw and he tasted blood. Another hit landed in his stomach and he lost his footing, landing hard on his side. He had the presence of mind to lift his arms to block the subsequent blows and received a kick to the ribs for his trouble. Soon several others descended upon him, kicking and punching. He curled, trying to find the magic to blast them apart when he felt a ripple of energy in the air.

"What the-"

Hawke looked up only to cover his head again as a ball of fire swept across the area. His attackers' screams filled the square as they ran, some dropping to the ground to quell the flames. A bright white ghost-like figure leapt forward into his vision and Hawke only knew one person who could achieve that affect. Wincing, ribs broken, he tried to sit up and managed to prop himself on an elbow, spitting out blood as Fenris and Anders finished off his assailants.

"Hawke!" Anders exclaimed, dropping down in front of him. "Hold still."

Hawke didn't much feel like moving, so he obeyed the command. A wash of warm blue light enveloped him. The pain faded, and Anders pushed him back to a supine position. He closed his eyes feeling skilled fingers against his jaw, wincing as they brushed the bruise there. Hawke heard Fenris approach.

"Will he be all right?"

"Just a few broken bones," Anders said. "Give me a minute."

"Foolish, Hawke," Fenris said irritably. "Walking around in the middle of the night alone."

"I could've handled it," Hawke muttered.

"Oh I'm sure. Before or after they beat you to unconsciousness?"

"I'm not a delicate mage flower," Hawke insisted, slurring a bit.

"Are you drunk?"

"You're not my mom."

Anders sighed. "Please stop. Hawke you were lucky we were around. They could've killed you."

"Guard pretenders," Fenris said. "Unless Aveline's men are in the habit of attacking you at random."

"They said they knew what I was up to," Hawke said, shivering as Anders unbuttoned his shirt, hands sliding over bare skin. "What're you doing?"

"Healing your cracked ribs. There's at least three of them."

Hawke tried to lift his head twice before giving up and simply stared at the stars as Anders healed him. "Not guards." His hands felt warm and nice over his skin and he let his drunken brain wonder what it would feel like to have those skilled fingers on him for more than just healing. Luckily he was very intoxicated and his body was unable to betray the arousal he felt.

"Mm. Then what?" Fenris wondered.

"Templar sympathizers," Hawke guessed. "Didn't seem like Coterie. Varric said they're staying away from me. Don't want to get entangled anymore. Not after everything. Your hands are warm," he said idly, wincing as he tried to arch into the touch. "Ow."

"Stay still," Anders admonished.

"Chances are they've been keeping tabs on your movements," Fenris said, going to a charred corpse, nudging it a bit with his bare foot. "They saw you drinking and took their shot."

"There," Anders said, finally. "Put your arm around me and I'll help you up."

Hawke flung his arms around Anders' shoulders and held tightly. Anders helped him to his feet, and Hawke inhaled deeply, pressing his nose to Anders' neck.

"You smell good."

"I smell like vomit and elfroot," Anders said with a laugh. "I only just got done with clinic duties."

"Good smell on you. I am very drunk," he explained, lest Anders think he was being inappropriate. Which he was. But it would be good if Anders thought otherwise.

Fenris scowled and pulled Hawke away, supporting him now. "Get the door," he said to Anders.

For a minute, Hawke thought Anders was going to go into his pocket to get his key. He wasn't sure he could handle that, but then he remembered Anders had his own key. A key which he removed from his coat, not from Hawke's pants, as they crossed the square. Hawke felt a stab of disappointment and allowed Fenris to guide him inside and upstairs. The next few minutes were a blur of hands and touching as Fenris and Anders undressed him.

"Threesome?" he asked before he was able to stop himself. Then, deciding he should apologize or correct himself, he continued. "Cause I wouldn't mind. You know. Fenris, you're cute." It didn't come out exactly the way he'd wished it to. "Bed's big enough," he tried again.

"You're drunk, Hawke," Fenris said, and pulled the blanket up over him.

Anders pressed a hand to Hawke's forehead, sending one last pulse of healing magic. "Sleep well, Hawke."

Hawke muttered unintelligibly and fell asleep.

-

Whatever spell Anders cast, Hawke was eternally grateful. He awoke groggy but without a hangover. Pulling back the blankets, he sat up, examining his torso. Some light bruises, but otherwise unharmed. Fenris and Anders had stripped him to his smalls, and Hawke took a moment to be thankful for them. They were good friends, the two of them, yet he couldn't shove aside the feeling of jealousy, the desire he felt for Anders. Had he started feeling this way months ago, he would've hated himself for it. What kind of person would he be to develop feelings for someone who bowed to him, who thought themselves his slave?

It was too early and those questions were too philosophical for him. He pulled clothing from the floor and dressed, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to at least look halfway presentable before going downstairs. He found them curled up on the couch in the library, reclining together, Anders lying against Fenris's chest. Fenris held a book in one hand, the other wrapped tightly around Anders. Hawke watched them for a bit, listening as Fenris read to him. He envied them, and the realization irritated him. He'd never had anything close to what they had. In Lothering there were plenty of pretty faces who were willing. Here in Kirkwall, plenty more. And Isabela was always ready for a tumble. But the intimacy, the familiarity, that's what he was missing. His lips parted slightly as Anders leaned up, pulling Fenris down for a kiss. They hadn't noticed him, the couch angled away from the doorway. Hawke leaned against the doorjamb as the book slid to the floor, Fenris threading his fingers through Anders' blond locks.

_Maker, they're beautiful together._

The kiss was unhurried, exploratory, and Hawke wondered if this is how they always were together when they thought they were alone. Anders pulled away, smiling at Fenris. There was a quirk of the elf's lips and he whispered something in Tevene. Anders blushed and responded before rocking his hips forward and pressing down. Fenris gasped. Hawke stepped back a bit further, quietly. He should go. He shouldn't watch what was obviously a private moment. But he stayed rooted to the spot, examining the looks on their faces, the coy smile of Anders' as he slid his hand down between them.

Fenris growled lightly. "No. Not here. Once Hawke awakes we'll return home."

Anders pouted but stopped, rocking his hips again. "You've been arguing with him more."

Fenris dropped his head back to the arm of the couch, letting his hand fall, fingertips brushing the carpet. "Perhaps."

"Fenris…"

"I dislike how he looks at you."

Anders scoffed. "He looks at me like how he always has."

Hawke wondered if that was true. If Fenris had been noticing something different… Though perhaps it was Fenris's own paranoia. He would have to be careful. Revealing how he felt about Anders would cause nothing but strife in the group, and they didn't need that now.

"Mm," was Fenris's non-committal response.

Anders kissed him again. Hawke stepped in, clearing his throat to let them know he was there. Anders looked over, smiling, before sitting up carefully. Hawke tried not to look at the slight tenting of Fenris's leggings and instead forced himself to return the smile.

"Maker, what a night, right?" he said shakily, forcing a laugh that sounded a bit too false even to his own ears. "Thanks for the rescue. I don't even know what I was doing."

Fenris sat up, leaning over to pick up the fallen book. "You were extremely inebriated."

"Barely remember it, except for getting my backside handed to me on a silver platter. Lucky that you two showed up." Damn it. He was usually more in control of his tone.

"Indeed."

Anders nudged Fenris before looking back to Hawke. "Why weren't you at the Hanged Man? You've been missing for a while. I think Varric's starting to worry."

Hawke shrugged, not wanting to have this conversation right now. Or ever. "Just felt like taking some time with the Guard. Donnic paid so I figured: why not?"

"Are you going to ask around about the ones that tried to kill you?" Anders sounded concerned.

"Kill me?" Hawke asked. "I don't think they were trying to kill me."

"Hawke," Fenris said, standing. "They waited until you were drunk and brought at least a dozen men. They were most definitely trying to kill you. The question remains is who they were and why."

"Lots of people would love to see me dead," Hawke said nonchalantly, wishing they'd drop the subject. And leave. Mostly leave.

"So you think that reason enough to let them try?" Fenris snapped.

Anders stood, touching Fenris on the shoulder. "Stop. Both of you. Hawke, look, we'll put out inquiries. Varric's sure to be able to help-"

"No," Hawke said. "Just leave it. I'm fine."

"Only because we stopped them," Anders said. "But fine, Hawke. It's your decision." Fenris started to protest and Anders cut him off. "No. If Hawke doesn't want the help, we'll let it go. But I do hope you realize your friends are worried about you."

Hawke swallowed. It wasn't fair to do this to them. Not without explaining why, and it would be a snowy day in Par Vollen before that happened. "I… I'll come by the Hanged Man more often, all right?"

"Once I get confirmation that Alrik's left, I'll come find you. We'll go tonight," Anders said, "if you're up to it."

"Sounds good," Hawke agreed.

Anders took Fenris's hand and pulled, dragging him across the library and stopped in front of Hawke. He laid a hand on Hawke's shoulder; Hawke felt the heat through his thin silk shirt and nervously returned the smile, and watched them leave. When he heard the front door shut, he laid his head back against the wall, sighing.

_Get over it,_ he thought. _Or you chance losing both of them._

Keeping that firmly in mind, he headed to the dining room in search of breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

It smelled dank and rotten beneath the city, which was only marginally worse than in the city itself. Anders led them through the damp tunnels, avoiding the rats that scurried beneath their feet. He held a dim globe of light out in the palm of his hand, bright enough to see a few feet in front of them.

"How long does this passage go on for?" Hawke whispered.

"It's supposed to end at the dungeons beneath the Gallows," Anders replied. "The Chantry would have us believe that they're no longer used. But rumors say otherwise and I'm inclined to believe them."

"Let us hope we can gather the evidence we require and leave quickly before we're discovered."

Hawke glanced back at Fenris. He would have said the elf was nervous, but it was unlike Fenris to show any sign of nerves. Worried for Anders' sake, perhaps? He couldn't see Fenris's face through the dark, though doubted it would betray even a hint of emotion even if he could. They walked for a quarter of an hour through twists and turns until finally the pathway opened. A curved metal arch at the end of the hall revealed a large square room. All along the walls, cells were built into the stone. In the middle, two more long rows of cells.

"Holding pens for slaves that disobeyed," Fenris said, moving forward to examine them.

Anders increased the brightness of the light, and Hawke heard a scrabbling in the corner. Something louder than rats. The smell of urine and feces hit them full force as they moved further into the room and Hawke raised his sleeve to his nose. He swatted away a few flies, and heard Anders retch as they approached the cell in the corner.

"Who… who are you?" came a tired, scratchy voice.

Hawke drew level with the cell and nearly vomited. A skeletal man, naked and bruised, his beard long and scraggly, sat on the dirt floor. Behind him, a pile of dirty straw and a bucket overflowing with human waste. Anders immediately knelt, holding the ball of light high above him, other hand reaching out, fingers wrapping around the bars. Hawke recoiled as the man moved closer, eyes milky white. He was blind.

"Templars? I don't hear the clanking."

"What's your name?" Anders asked gently.

The man paused, head tilting. A fly buzzed around his head and landed in his beard. Hawke saw the wiry hairs shift and a maggot crawled out, flopping onto the ground.

"Mage," the man said finally. "Robe."

"We have to get him out," Hawke said, examining the lock, wishing he'd thought to bring Varric or Isabela.

"Wait, do I know you?" Anders asked, reaching through the bars, lowering the light a bit. His fingers brushed the man's shoulder and the man pulled back, turning and retreating into the cell. 

"Maker," Hawke hissed. "Look at his back."

It was crossed with dozens of long, raised scars.

"Horsewhip," Fenris confirmed, the word dripping venom.

Anders looked up at him, then to Hawke. "Can you open the cage?"

Hawke placed a hand over the locking mechanism and melted it with a burst of heat. Fenris gently pushed him aside and withdrew a knife, wedging it into the narrow gap between the cage door and the bars and pried it open. It creaked but gave. The man huddled in the straw, rats running across his toes. Anders stepped inside.

"I do know you," he breathed. "Is it… Karl? Maker, it can't be. What did they do to you?"

The man looked up, eyes unseeing. "No. I'm not. Not anymore."

Anders looked back at Hawke and Fenris, eyes shining in the light. He'd started to cry. "Help me get him out," he pleaded, extinguishing the light. He peeled off his coat and wrapped it around Karl's shoulders.

Hawke had only had a few conversations with Anders about Karl. From what he understood, the man was an enchanter in Ferelden who'd been transferred to the Kirkwall Circle. Anders knew him as a mentor, a teacher and a lover. He promised Anders he would continue to look into it. Did Thrask simply have the wrong information? Last Hawke had heard, Karl Thekla had simply been confined to quarters. If Alrik was using that excuse as to why mages weren't attending meals and lessons in order to bring them down here and punish them, he needed to inform Thrask. But taking Karl now would mean there was no proof of Alrik's crimes.

"Hawke, please," Anders begged, as Fenris moved into the cell to help him heft Karl to his feet.

"I can carry him," Fenris said, and pulled Karl into a bridal carry. "Hawke, cover our flank. Anders, go."

Anders edged out of the cell and lit the globe of light in his palm again, clutching his staff. "We'll come back to scout the rest of the cells," he said to Hawke before leading the way out.

Hawke followed, feeling apprehensive. Karl wasn't the first mage to be tortured by Alrik down here, not if the contents of the other cells were any indication. He wondered if further in they would find other evidence. And who else was working with Alrik? Surely he wouldn't have just left Karl in the cell during his trip to Val Royeaux. Or would he? After all, what did it matter to Alrik if another mage ended up dead? And Meredith wouldn't care. One less mage to clutter up her Gallows. He would tell Thrask, but what could the Templar truly do?

They reached Darktown and Anders extinguished the light, glancing back again at Fenris before hurrying to his clinic. Inside, Hawke locked and barred the doors before lighting the fireplace and candles while Anders drew a bath and heated the water. Hawked stood aside, watching. Fenris and Anders worked well together, he realized, not just in fighting but also in this. Fenris carefully lowered Karl into the water after removing the coat while Anders worked to heal the wounds. Fenris fetched bandages and salves when Anders ordered.

"He'll be okay," Anders said, though it was more to himself than either Fenris or Hawke. "He's not going to die."

"Of course he won't," Fenris said, and removed his gauntlets in order to aid Anders in washing Karl's emaciated form.

"You'll get some proper rest and a good meal," Anders whispered, kneeling by the tub. "Hold still. We're going to have to shave off your beard. Maker, Karl… I had no idea they were doing this to you." His voice quavered as he spoke.

"I remember," Karl said. "They tried to take it from my mind." He lifted a shaking hand, reaching out. Anders took it in both of his. "Ferelden. Kinloch Hold."

Anders smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to the back of Karl's hand. "Ages ago. A lifetime ago."

"I waited for you. You came."

"Of course I did. I'm only sorry it took me so long."

Karl coughed, flecks of blood spattering his lips. Anders pressed a hand to his chest, frowning as he searched for the source of the bleeding. Fenris took up a razor and shaving cream and Hawke felt like an awkward third wheel as they nursed Karl back to health and hygiene.

"He can stay in the estate," Hawke said finally. "It's not safe here. And no one will come looking for him in my house."

Anders looked up at him with overwhelming relief and gratitude. "It won't be for more than a few days. Until we can find a suitable place for him to go."

"Does he have family?" Hawke asked.

"A brother in Redcliffe," Anders said, frowning. "But that was years ago. The man could be dead for all I know."

"Ferelden might be safest for him," Hawke suggested. "The king seems a bit more lenient on mages than here."

"Anywhere would be," Anders replied, somewhat viciously.

Fenris huffed a bit, carefully scraping away the bristly hairs on Karl's cheeks and chin.

"You can't possibly hold now with your pro-Templar views," Hawke snapped. "Not after this."

Fenris stiffened, jaw clenched as Anders looked up at him.

"He didn't deserve this," Fenris said.

Hawke scoffed. "But others do? Because they're mages, they deserve to be tortured and beaten?"

"Stop it!" Anders cried. "Why? Why do this now?"

"I'm sorry," Hawke said at once, not having meant to upset Anders.

Anders, shoulders shaking, leaned up and pushed a ball of healing light into Karl's chest. Karl coughed twice before lurching forward, Fenris pulling the razor away to avoid cutting him. There was a gasping, rattling breath before Karl dissolved into a fit, hacking and trying to draw in deep breaths at the same time. Anders kept a hand on his back.

"Just breathe," he whispered. "Just breathe."

A minute passed, then another. And while Karl's breathing was still labored, the cough seemed to be gone. He nodded before Fenris resumed shaving him. Hawke remained quiet for the rest of the time, holding out a large blanket to wrap around the naked, shivering man as Fenris and Anders lifted him from the bath.

"I never thought I would be free," Karl said, reaching out to find Anders. He embraced him, barely able to stand, Fenris holding him upright. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you. I prayed for death. The Maker sent you instead."

Anders nodded silently, looking as though he would start to cry again if he had to speak. He cleared his throat and took a breath. "Fenris, could you bring him upstairs? Through the cellars? I'll… I'll be up in a moment. Hawke, help me with the tub?"

Fenris gave Hawke an indiscernible look before taking Karl by the waist. Hawke unlatched the door and pushed it open, watching Fenris half-carry him away before shutting the door again. He worked in silence with Anders to dump the tub and clean it out and organize the supplies.

"Are you all right?" he asked Anders, though he knew his friend couldn't possibly be, not after that.

"I knew Alrik was a snake," Anders said, sitting on a cot, holding a pot of salve. "I just never thought I'd see it first-hand. He's worse than the magisters."

Hawke sat next to him, tempted to put an arm around him, but resisted.

"We'll find a way to take him out, I promise you. Alrik will pay for his crimes."

Anders sighed, setting the pot aside. "Sometimes I think I can still feel Justice inside me, hollering at me to do something. I am trying, Hawke. I knew my life would never be easy but… but sometimes…"

His voice quavered, and Hawke threw caution to the wind, sliding closer, arm around him. His heart fluttered a bit as Anders leaned against him.

"Maker help me, sometimes I wish I never left Tevinter," Anders whispered. "Don't… don't tell Fenris. He might understand but he'd be angry and I don't want to fight with him about this. I don't _want_ to go back. I never want to go back. But with… with Danarius," he said, choking on the name, "I didn't have to think. I just reacted. I just did what I was told. It's not a way to live, but sometimes I miss how easy life was. Sometimes I think I can't do this."

"But you can," Hawke said. He thought he knew what Anders meant, at least a little. Sometimes life on the run was so difficult for him, for his family, for his mother in particular, he thought maybe if he and Bethany just went to the Circle it would be better for everyone involved. His mother's strength, his father's courage got him through that. "You can. And we'll be there. Me and Fenris and the others. We won't leave you to do this alone."

Anders looked up at him, tired and teary-eyed. "I know. I'm… so glad I met you, Hawke."

"I wish it had been better circumstances," Hawke said lightly. "But I like to think it all worked out for the best."

Hawke smiled when Anders let out a shaky laugh. He was about to stand, about to pull away when Anders reached up, cupping his cheek, and kissed him. A few seconds later Hawke's muddled brain registered what was happening. This wasn't a chaste thank you kiss, he realized as Anders parted his lips. He knew he should pull away, that to encourage this was wrong. But he responded in kind and heard himself whimper as the kiss grew heated. Anders' hand was at the back of his head, holding him firmly in place and Hawke awkwardly embraced him. Anders pushed him back over the cot, thrusting his tongue into Hawke's mouth, and Hawke's brain seized as his friend laid overtop him.

Isn't this what he'd wanted? Anders kissing him, Anders in his arms. He'd dreamt about this, about being with him. But that nagging conscience in the corner of his mind reminded him that Anders was off-limits. Kissing him would anger Fenris. It would cause nothing but strife in the group. Hawke needed to resist. So he pushed him back, regretting it immediately. Anders went willingly, sitting up, licking his lips as he looked down at Hawke.

"Hawke? Are you all right?" he asked. "You look… sick."

Hawke felt cold and tingly, trying to understand what just happened. He sat up slowly. "You… kissed me."

"It wasn't good?"

"But you and Fenris…"

"What about us?"

Hawke shook his head. "You're with him."

"I am."

Hawke sighed. Wasn't he getting it? Didn't he understand? "It's not a good idea. Us together. You're happy with him."

"I don't understand," Anders said, sounding confused.

"I'll just go." Hawke stood, despite the protests from Anders, and left quickly.

He avoided taking the cellar back to his estate, not wanting to run into Fenris on the way back down. Hopefully Anders would realize what he'd done and maybe there would be an awkward day or two between them and that would be the end of it. He also hoped that Fenris never found out. While Hawke was pretty sure he could take Fenris in a fair fight, he wasn't sure that Fenris would fight fair. Anders meant too much to him to lose him, and Hawke refused to hurt either of them in that way.

The only solution now was to get very, very drunk.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a lot more difficult avoiding Fenris and Anders than had been previously. Karl was staying in a guest room next to Anders', and Fenris decided he would remain as well, at least until they could decide the best place for Karl. It took the better part of three weeks to nurse the man back to health, to get him eating on his own. His body healed slowly but eventually, all except for his eyes. Anders tried to help him regain his sight, but the Templars had done irreversible damage. Hawke offered to send inquiries to healers in other Circles, but both Anders and Karl declined, not wanting to draw attention to it. Hawke did speak to Thrask however, and he confirmed Hawke's fears. Without evidence, there was nothing to hold against Alrik.

"Selby says she might know people who can help," Anders said. They were sitting at Hawke's dining room table for supper. "She has cousins in Ferelden. In the Bannorn. They work for a minor bann who would be willing to provide shelter in exchange for work."

Hawke looked to Karl, who was sitting across from him. "But what kind of work?"

"I am still knowledgeable in the healing arts," Karl said gently. "Among other things. While I couldn't help plow a field or build a barn, I can tend the wounded. And I daresay I'm still good at spinning a tale or two. I've been in charge of children and teenagers most of my life. I'm sure there's work even for a blind nanny."

Anders scoffed. "You should be lauded as a hero for what you've been through."

Karl smiled. "If we handed out gold stars for every mage who suffered Templar abuses, there wouldn't be enough gold left in all of Thedas," he said, calming Anders. "It's the best place for me now, and I'll be able to write to you and let you know of any goings-on in Ferelden you should be aware of. After all, a blind servant doesn't afford much attention."

"I suppose you're right," Anders sighed, relenting.

"Of course I am."

Fenris snorted. He seemed to like Karl. Perhaps it was the easy way Karl had with Anders, setting him at ease with a word or a touch. Regardless of whatever it was, the three had formed a bond over the weeks, and Karl seemed just as fond of Fenris as he was of Anders. Of course he treated Hawke similarly, the way an uncle would a favorite nephew. Hawke knew he would miss him, and promised again that he would see Alrik pay for hurting someone like Karl. He also understood why Anders might have fallen for him when they were in the Circle together. Karl had an easy nature about him. He was smart, sharp, quick-witted. And his sense of humor was in line with Hawke's own. Something that Fenris and Anders were quick to point out and stop before the jokes got too out of hand.

Anders helped Karl from his seat once they'd finished, and Hawke was about to stand when Fenris said his name. Hawke settled down, feeling a bit nervous. The elf's tone was serious. Not that he wasn't usually, but Hawke knew when Fenris spoke with that intonation, it meant business. So he remained, and waited.

"This… isn't easy for me," Fenris started, "so I'll thank you to stay quiet until I've finished."

Hawke nodded. Here it was. Fenris telling him off. Telling him to stay away from Anders. That he'd be castrated if he even thought about the other man. He could take it. He would deserve it. And at least Fenris didn't seem inclined to scream at him, or to put his fist through his chest. In fact, he was being downright rational. Or maybe Hawke was just being paranoid and he was about to have an altogether different conversation.

"Anders told me that he kissed you."

Or not. So much for hoping he could avoid this confrontation. He was about to speak when Fenris held up a hand.

"Just let me talk." Fenris cleared his throat. "We spoke at length about his feelings for you. I admit, I was… upset at his admission. But it would appear that he feels as strongly for you as he does for myself. Under normal circumstances, I would likely do something foolish. Like challenge you to a duel." His lips quirked into a smirk before he continued. "But while Anders is worth fighting for, he's not some consolation prize. He's not a slave, not an object to be fought over. I thought perhaps it was residual from his time when he believed you to be his master. That he still clung to some bit of slave mentality. But," he said, shifting a bit, looking uncomfortable, "the more we spoke, the more I became convinced."

Hawke listened, processing all this. Was Fenris saying what he thought he was saying? Would he really leave Anders? Give his blessing for Anders to be with Hawke? "Convinced?" he prompted.

Fenris made a low, gravelly noise in his throat that was less an angry growl and more contemplative. "He's fallen in love with you and his feelings are genuine."

Guilt and elation in equal parts settled in Hawke's stomach. "I…"

Fenris held his hand up once more. "And he's still in love with me."

"Oh." Confusion joined the previous two emotions.

"The solution we've come to is that, provided you consented, Anders would like to be with both of us."

Hawke blinked. "Both?"

"For once, please work this out on your own so that I don't have to explain it again," Fenris said with a tired sigh.

Hawke ignored the insult. "You mean a threesome."

Fenris scowled. "It's definitely not your mental prowess that's gotten you this far. No," he said, annoyed. "If it were solely my decision, I wouldn't agree to this at all. But I've taken Anders' feelings into consideration. Of us all, he deserves as much happiness as I can grant him. I'd like to grant him this. So if you consent," he said again, "he'll have relations with us both. Separately," he added with a grunt, as if the thought of being with Hawke in such a way disgusted him.

Hawke remained quiet, digesting this information. Anders was in love with both of them, he wanted to be with both of them. And Fenris agreed to it. Begrudgingly, perhaps, but still. Hawke hadn't even considered the possibility. He'd participated in a threesome before, the Blooming Rose catered to all. But this was something different. An actual relationship with Anders, being at his side, fighting with him against mage oppression, being with him romantically and also sexually… while Fenris did the same. Could Hawke handle that? He thought of the jealousy, the possible issues. Would they time share him? Did they get visiting rights? What if one didn't want to spend the night alone at the same time the other felt the same?

"It would be extremely complicated," Hawke said finally.

"Are you willing?"

The door opened and Anders walked in, looking tired but happy. "He's gone to sleep for the night. I was thinking – when I was in Tevinter, there were books from Orlais that were designed for the blind. Instead of letters, raised dots. Do you think we could special order some for him?"

"Of course," Hawke said at once. "I'll look into it tomorrow."

Anders smiled, then seemed to realize the tension in the room. "Was I interrupting an argument?"

Fenris shook his head and patted the chair next to him. "No. I was speaking to Hawke about our… proposal."

"Oh," Anders said with a slight blush. "And?"

Hawke watched him settle in the chair next to Fenris and take the elf's hand. They were both nervous, he realized. He wondered if Fenris would have agreed to something like this under normal circumstances. But then again, what was normal for Kirkwall? What was normal for any of Thedas, really? And in a world that was so swept by chaos, where happiness was fleeting, you grabbed it where and when you could. Isabela had taught him that.

"I'd like to try," Hawke said finally. "I can't imagine it will be easy, but I really, really would like to try."

Fenris looked relieved, and Anders' face split with a grin. Before Hawke could say anything else, Anders was on his feet and leaning down to hug him tightly. Hawke returned it, surprised yet pleased when Anders slid into his lap.

"If you hurt him-" Fenris started.

Anders looked at him, reaching over and taking his hand. "He won't. He couldn't. He's Hawke," he said, as if that simply explained it all.

Hawke let out a nervous laugh. "I won't," he assured Fenris. "I… it's easy to understand why you fell in love with him."

Anders beamed, blushing a bit, and as Hawke kissed him, he understood more than just that. Something about the way Anders smiled, about how giving him that bit of happiness, that little self-esteem boost did wonders for Hawke's own feelings as well. Anders was very special. Fenris knew it, which was why he was willing to endure this for him. And Hawke knew that while it would be difficult, it would be worth it.


	5. Chapter 5

Hawke didn't see much of either Anders or Fenris over the next few days, everyone still quite busy. He didn't mind, though, as he had his own errands. He found didn't need to write to Orlais to find the books Anders' spoke of. Varric tipped him off about a book store in Hightown that had what he was looking for. He bought two dozen, a mix of history and fiction, even a copy of Varric's _Hard in Hightown_ that was translated by popular demand, along with a beginner's instructional guide on how to read the language. The shop keeper gave him a funny look, and he explained that his uncle's eyesight was going. Even if the rumor spread and Gamlen denied it, no one would question Hawke.

The reason for Anders' and Fenris's absence became clear that evening as they informed Karl the boat to Ferelden would leave for Amaranthine the next day. Anders paid a friend of Lirene's to see him safely to Amaranthine where a man called Nathaniel Howe would be waiting. Hawke was impressed with how quickly and efficiently Anders had everything completed. Karl thanked them all profusely, especially Hawke once he was given the books.

"I will find a way to repay you," Karl assured him.

"No need," Hawke said. "Just keep us informed. And take care of yourself."

Karl promised them he would, and retired to bed with his books.

Fenris stretched before leaning over to kiss Anders gently. "I'll see you in the morning."

Anders nodded, and Fenris left, lifting a hand in farewell to Hawke. Hawke, confused, looked at Anders.

"I thought perhaps I could stay here tonight," Anders said, slightly nervous.

"You can always stay here," Hawke replied, confused. Then he realized. "Oh! You mean stay here. Right."

Anders laughed, reaching over to take his hand. "Would that be all right?"

Hawke licked his lips and nodded nervously. "In my bed, right?"

"That's the idea, usually."

"Do you and Fenris…"

Anders shook his head. "I'll respect his privacy just like I'll respect yours. You wouldn't want me to tell him what we get up to, would you?"

Hawke thought about Anders and Fenris together, laughing over his performance in bed. Not that he was bad, but the thought was embarrassing. And as much as he'd like to know that he was better than the elf, if he was, it wouldn't be fair to any of them. So he shook his head and allowed Anders to lead him upstairs. The last time they were in the master bedroom alone together, Anders had blown it apart. The roof had since been fixed, though Hawke added a skylight. It was nice on rainy days to lie in bed and watch as well as listen. The old furniture was replaced, the bed bigger and softer.

"Are you nervous?" Anders asked, reaching out with deft fingers to unbutton Hawke's shirt.

"Nervous? No." It was a lie. It still felt like he was hurting Fenris. Like by being with Anders, he was betraying a friend. That, juxtaposed to the want and desire for Anders, made for a very confusing state of mind. "You're absolutely sure this is what you want?"

"Yes. I'm sure. He said this was good for me," Anders said, sliding the silken shirt from Hawke's arms, eyes widening as he surveyed the broad shoulders, the defined muscles.

Hawke's ego surged as Anders said something quietly in Tevene. It had to have been a compliment, because the next second, he was kissing a trail down his arm, teeth gently scraping at his bicep.

"Good for you?" Hawke asked, stomach tightening as Anders reached for the ties to his pants.

"Taking what I want. Being in control. Even though I've mostly recovered, I still… backslide. Fenris said he does sometimes as well. That it's normal, but it can be overcome."

Hawke stepped out of his house shoes as Anders knelt in front of him. "Oh. Yes. I suppose…"

Anders slowly tugged his pants down, leaning back on his heels to survey him. Hawke looked down, watching. He thanked the Maker for small favors that the pair of smallclothes he wore were fairly new. Adventuring in caves and sewers left most of his wardrobe unaccountably stained. He felt self-conscious enough without also wondering if Anders would judge him by that.

"Do you want this?" Anders asked, looking up. "We don't have to do anything tonight. I just… wanted to spend time with you."

"Do I want – yes," Hawke said, when his brain caught up with his mouth. "I thought I was sick for wanting this. Because of everything. But I…"

"You never took advantage," Anders said. "I remember that. You could have."

"No. I couldn't," Hawke said, stepping out of his pants. He reached down and pulled Anders to his feet. "I would never. It would be consensual or not at all."

Anders smiled, leaning in and kissing him. "You helped me remember myself. My cause." Another kiss. "You helped me free my chains."

Hawke's head was spinning, but he was in control enough to reach up, to start removing the layers of clothing Anders wore. As the other man kissed him, his lips, his cheek, his neck, Hawke undressed him carefully, not wanting to go too fast and make it uncomfortable. They somehow made it to the bed, Anders pressing him back, and landed together on the soft mattress. Hawke sighed happily as Anders kissed him again, sliding his thigh up against and then between his legs. Two thin layers of fabric separated them, and Hawke was hesitant to push more, content now to simply kiss him. This is what he'd been missing. No amount of visits to the Rose could fulfill the need for companionship.

"I love you," he said, without meaning to. 

Anders smiled and replied in Tevene, then again, "I love you, too."

"I've never done anything like this before," Hawke admitted.

"Sex?" Anders asked with a frown. "Don't tell me you're a virgin."

"What? No! I'm not," Hawke said. "Well. I've never… I mean, Jethann at the Rose, he sucked me off once. But I never…"

Anders looked at him for a moment, propping his head up on a fist. "We'll go slowly then. In everything. This isn't something I'm willing to throw away so quickly, Hawke. It want it all to be… perfect. So much of my life isn't. Wasn't. You and Fenris, that's what's good."

Hawke nodded. "Have you two…"

Anders sighed and rolled his eyes good naturedly. "If you must know… yes. All of it."

"Oh." Hawke frowned slightly. "Both ways? I mean, you on top and vice versa?"

Anders stared at him.

"What?" Hawke asked. "I'm curious."

Anders nudged him onto his back and curled up around him, head on his shoulder. "Yes. But I don't want to talk about it anymore. He and I have something special. Just like you and I."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right. If it helps… I've never done anything like this. I… relationships were complicated in the Circle," he said, running his fingertips gently down Hawke's chest, stopping at his stomach. "And being on the run never really leant itself to traditional dating. And after…" The hand clenched into a fist.

Hawke covered it with his own, then carefully uncurled Anders' fingers before entwining them with his own. "We'll make this work somehow. Have patience." He pulled the blanket over them and settled down, holding him tightly.

Anders seemed content with that, and fell silent. Hawke was almost asleep when fluttering kisses on his collar bone awakened his arousal. Anders shifted on top of him, bringing their hips together and rocking gently.

"Oh, Maker," Hawke groaned, getting hard. 

Thoughts of sleep fled his mind as Anders continued, making small needy whimpering noises against his throat. Hawke reached down, hand on Anders' hip before sliding to cup his ass, pressing him firmly down. Anders' nails dug into shoulders as he clung to him, increasing the speed of his thrusts, and Hawke needed something more. Now. He slid his fingertips into the waistband of Anders' smalls, squeezing the swell of backside. Anders pressed little kisses to his collar bone, head dipping to lick then suck his nipple.

"Anders," Hawke grunted. "Want to feel you."

Anders' hands left his shoulders and he shoved his smalls down to his thighs. Hawke lifted his own hips, doing the same, letting out a quiet cry as they came together, cocks meeting for the first time. Hot flesh slid against hot flesh, and Anders kissed him open-mouthed and panting. Hawke felt the tip of his tongue touch against Anders' as he gripped him by the hips, urging him to keep moving. Sweat-slicked they rocked together, Anders' hand reaching down to stroke them both as they kissed and gasped. Their movements at first were slow and sure, building into a frenzy. Hawke's hips snapped upward as Anders pushed down against him. There was no rhythm as they rutted, legs sliding together. Hawke hooked his foot around Anders' ankle and gave three quick thrusts, unable to hold on any more as Anders stroked him faster.

He spilled over Anders' hand and their stomachs, then covered Anders' hand with his own to help him finish. Sweaty and sticky, they didn't move for a moment, Anders' forehead resting against his shoulder. Hawke fumbled at the nightstand, knocking over a coffee mug that thudded onto the carpet as he grabbed up the napkin that had been left there from breakfast. With some effort, he cleaned them off, tossing the soiled cloth to the floor. Anders wriggled, pulling his smalls off, tossing them aside before settling next to him on his stomach, one leg wrapped around Hawke's. He made a happy, contented noise.

"I thought you were asleep," Hawke said finally, pulling his own smallclothes off, momentarily displacing Anders.

"Mm. I was almost. Then I decided I would sleep better if I touched you first."

Hawke laughed. "Well. I can't argue that."

Anders nuzzled close, then looked up at him, kissing him briefly before snuggling down again. "If I asked you to help me with something… would you do it?"

"Yes, of course." Hawke pulled him close, wrapping an arm around him as Anders laid half on top of him.

"You don't ask what it is?"

"Well what is it?" Hawke asked, yawning.

"To help me gather ingredients I need for a spell."

Hawke was nearly asleep, feeling happy and sated. Anders could've asked the world, and he would have found a way to give it to him. "Anything you want."

"Be careful what you say, Hawke," Anders said gently.

"I mean it. 'sit about the mage rebellion?" he guessed, his brain feeling warm and fuzzy.

"It is."

"Then I'll do anything at all. Promise," Hawke said, with a yawn. He missed the next thing Anders said, allowing sleep to claim him.


	6. Chapter 6

They saw Karl off the next day, and while Anders was upset to see him go, he was relieved to know he'd be safe. Hawke stood awkwardly on the dock with Fenris while Anders said his final goodbye. Was it supposed to feel this way the morning after? He truly had no comparison. Fenris barely spoke two words to him that morning.

"So…"

"Hawke."

"Hm?"

"I don't wish to speak about your evening."

Hawke crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the ship. In his peripheral vision he could see Fenris shifting, brushing a bit of lint from his leggings.

"So we're going to keep it completely business?"

"We have done so in the past. I see no reason to change things now."

Fenris did have a point. If Hawke was going to talk about his romantic conquests with anyone, it would have been Varric. And though he was sure the dwarf would love to get his hands on some very juicy gossip involving this new dynamic, Hawke had no desire to share it with him.

"What does Anders like?" he heard himself asking.

Fenris slowly turned his head to look at Hawke, an expression of disbelief on his face. "Come again?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

But Anders interrupted them, coming back up the dock. He wrapped his arms around Fenris's waist, resting his forehead on his shoulder. "So that's it," he said, slightly muffled.

Fenris gently patted his shoulder, and Hawke felt a slight thrill when Anders moved to him, hugging him as well. He returned it.

"I'm all right," Anders assured them, wiping his eyes though they were dry. "Karl promised to write when he reached Amaranthine and then again once he was settled." He smiled, though it was slightly forced. "I try not to think about what Alrik did to him. He's strong. But I think about the others," he said, lowering his eyes. "The ones who aren't strong, the ones Alrik already got to… We've got to do something."

Fenris frowned. "Going in the first time was dangerous. We were lucky not to encounter any opposition. Descending again would be foolish."

"I know," Anders admitted. "But I can't just leave it, Fenris. Something needs to be done." He sighed, shaking his head, then changed his tone, sounding more hopeful. "Now that Karl's safe, would you come with me to collect those ingredients like you promised?"

Hawke thought this sounded vaguely familiar. "The ones you asked about last night?"

Anders nodded. "I need both your help. They're a bit… unusual. And no one in Kirkwall stocks them because the mages here don't use them."

Fenris raised an eyebrow. "Is it something you learned in Tevinter?"

Anders lowered his eyes, which Hawke understood to mean, 'yes.' 

"Nothing good comes from there," Fenris said sharply.

Anders winced, and Hawke put a comforting hand on his shoulder, then remembering he didn't need to be careful with his touches, gently pulled Anders close. Anders leaned into the comfort, and Fenris scowled.

"Hawke, if you're merely trying to curry favor, it's a dangerous path you go down."

"I trust Anders. You should as well," Hawke said. "If it helps the mages here, I'll do it." He looked at Anders. "You promise it'll help?"

"You have such blind faith in me," Anders whispered, slightly pained.

Fenris threw up his arms in irritation before stalking away. Hawke watched Anders go after him and followed, listening to the argument.

"You cannot even tell us what this is about."

"It'll help, Fenris, I promise."

"You're asking us to trust you, when you don't trust us."

A pause, Anders' hurt silence. "I do trust you. That's why I'm asking you both for help. Please. I promise, once I've finished, the world will see all the injustices of the Circle."

"Promise me one more thing," Fenris said soberly.

They came to a stop in a side alley, Fenris with his arms crossed, Anders leaning against the building opposite, only a foot of space between them.

"Anything," Anders said, eager to appease him.

"Promise me this spell involves no blood magic, no deals with demons."

Anders' eyes widened. "I wouldn't. Ever."

"Promise me," Fenris said, stepping forward, pulling Anders upright.

Anders reached up, cupping his face carefully and looked into his eyes. "I promise."

Fenris made a reluctant noise in the back of his throat. Apparently this was all Anders needed for approval, and he leaned forward, kissing him deeply. Hawke watched, mouth going dry as Fenris pressed Anders into the stone wall. His hands found Anders' wrists and he pinned them up, kissing him roughly, hips thrusting forward. Someone – Anders? – made a noise of longing, a gasp. Hawke knew he shouldn't watch this, but was it really wrong anymore? And it wasn't as if they were back in a private library or a bedroom. Anyone could walk down this alley.

"Fenris," Anders whispered as the kiss ended.

Anders tilted his head to the side and Hawke saw the elf trail little bites and kisses down the pale neck, one thigh working firmly between Anders' legs. Hawke let out a shaking breath, feeling a curl of arousal in his lower belly. And Anders opened his eyes, looking over at him, smiling.

"I like the way you look at me," Anders admitted, a tinge of pink to his cheeks.

Fenris looked up, then over at Hawke, sneering slightly. "We should go. Especially if this is going to take all day."

Hawke was slightly disappointed it was over that quickly, but Anders placated him with a kiss. "Where to first?" he asked, cupping Anders' chin and stealing another before letting him go.

"The… er, sewers."

Hawke raised an eyebrow, looking past Anders to Fenris, whose expression clearly stated, 'This is _your_ fault.' "What are we looking for?"

"Sela petrae. It's a mineral that forms on…"

Hawke held up a hand. "I can guess," he said with a sigh. "Lead on then."

They spent the better part of the day collecting the ingredients that Anders needed, him assuring Fenris the entire time that the effort would be worth it. After they cleaned up, Fenris retreating to his mansion for a fresh outfit, Anders lingered in the doorway of the master bedroom of Hawke's estate.

"There's something else I need your help with," he said tentatively.

Hawke pulled on a clean shirt, looking over. Anders seemed worried. "I promised you I would help however I can."

"I need to get into the chantry," Anders said, stepping in. 

His hair hung damply around his face, and Hawke reached up to tuck it back, leaning in for a kiss. It still felt surreal to him that he was allowed to share the intimacy of a relationship, strange as it was. Anders was smiling slightly as he pulled back.

"That's easy enough."

"I need you to distract the Grand Cleric for me."

Hawke frowned. Why would Anders possibly need him to do that? "Are you going to tell me the reason?"

Anders started to pull away, and winced when Hawke kept him in place. He raised a hand in defense, then remembered himself, slowly lowering it. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Hawke sighed, kissing his forehead. "You don't need to apologize. I'll help you. Though I wish you would tell me why."

"I will. You'll know. But not yet."

Hawke supposed it was good for Anders to keep secrets. He didn't think that Danarius would have let him keep any. "I won't press further, then."

Anders leaned up and kissed him quickly. "I'll be busy putting it together. Come tomorrow night and we'll go then."

"And Fenris?"

Anders shook his head. "It's best we do this just you and I. Fenris would demand answers that I can't give yet."

Hawke understood. And while he wasn't pleased with keeping things from Fenris, that was for Anders to deal with. "Will you be at the clinic all night then?"

"Yes. I'll be fine," Anders added, seeing Hawke's concerned expression. "I promise."

Hawke believed him, even if he did worry.

-

The very next night Hawke met Anders in his clinic and they went together to the chantry.

"Fenris is at the Hanged Man," Hawke assured him. "I told him you were looking to spend the night with me and he mentioned something about winning back his coin from Isabela."

Anders smiled, though Hawke could tell he was distracted. "He'll just borrow it from you."

"I know," Hawke said, reaching up to touch his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Anders nodded as they gained the chantry steps. "I'll come find you when I'm finished. This is good, Hawke. I promise you."

Hawke wasn't sure if Anders was trying to reassure him or himself. "I trust you," he said, and watched Anders disappear down a side passage.

Conversing with the Grand Cleric especially when Sebastian was in earshot wasn't something Hawke particularly felt like doing. However, he'd made a promise and so he kept it, arguing with both the old lady and Choir Boy about mage rights.

"You've got to see that Meredith-" he was trying again when Anders slid beside him, taking his arm.

"There you are," Anders said. "You promised you'd come for cards tonight."

Hawke was impressed at how nonchalant Anders sounded. He barely bothered with excusing himself and let Anders pull him away. "Well?"

Anders paused as they reached the bottom step. He seemed to almost thrum with excited magical energy, bouncing on the balls of his heels. "Yes. It's done. Thank you, Hawke. For your trust, for everything. I truly cannot tell you what it means to me."

Hawke shared his trepidation and excitement, pushing him gently against the Chanter's Board, rustling the papers there, and kissed him deeply. It was dark; the inhabitants of Hightown would be tucked away for supper and boring conversations. Hawke much preferred Kirkwall at night, even with the gangs and thugs out for his blood. He'd been about to pull back, to suggest they head home to continue, when an outraged voice broke through the stillness of the evening.

"How _dare_ you!"

Hawke found himself being pulled away from Anders by a firm hand. Angry blue eyes were upon him, and he realized Sebastian followed them out. Perhaps to continue the argument they'd been having?

"What?" he spat back, irritated at the interruption.

"Are you forcing yourself upon him?" Sebastian asked, now pushing Hawke back, putting himself between him and Anders. "Using magic to sway him?"

Hawke couldn’t believe it. Or he could. Sebastian was just that self-righteous. "It's not any of your business what goes on between Anders and myself."

"It is," Sebastian said. "Fenris is my friend. He'd want to know that you're… you're taking advantage of his lover."

"Sebastian," Anders said quietly, "you've got it wrong."

Sebastian turned on Anders now. "Have I? Did you do this willingly?"

"Yes," Anders said earnestly. "I wanted him to kiss me. I swear it."

Hawke scoffed. "Mind your own business, Sebastian."

"You… you're cheating on him," Sebastian said with realization. "I can't let this stand."

"It's not like that," Hawke started to say.

"Don't even try, Hawke," Sebastian snapped, rounding on him. "Too long I've watched you hurt my friend, dragging him on your crusade against the Chantry. And you've made no secret of it. Well. This is the last straw."

Before Hawke or Anders could fully register the absurdity of the misunderstanding, Sebastian took off at a determined march toward Lowtown.

"He thinks I'm being disloyal?" Anders asked, looking up at Hawke.

"I can't imagine this unconventional relationship is going to sit very well with him. Not that it's his business," Hawke added somewhat bitterly. "Still, we should go see what we can do before the situation gets blown out of proportion."

They followed after Sebastian and found him in the Hanged Man, thankfully in Varric's suite, urging Fenris to go with him so they could have a private conversation. Sebastian looked up when they entered, glaring at the both of them. Varric was sitting in his usual spot at the head of the table, feet propped up, cards in hand. Isabela likewise sat next to him with her own cards, watching the scene unfold. Both wore amused expressions.

"You cannot convince me to lie," Sebastian said immediately to Hawke and Anders.

"Then go right ahead," Hawke said, nonplussed.

"Have you no shame at all?"

"Sebastian," Fenris said, "what is this about?"

"I saw Hawke with Anders. Romantically," he said. "Kissing him."

Hawke couldn't help it; he laughed.

"Don't say it was a misunderstanding," Sebastian said, whirling on him. "I saw you."

Fenris gently laid his cards down, thanking Varric for the game, before he stood. "Let us discuss this somewhere more private."

"I don't know," Hawke said, still laughing, "I think this is fine."

Anders meanwhile, had backed up against a wall, arms around himself. Fenris realized first, and moved quickly to him before Anders had a chance to retreat too far into himself. Hawke stood next to him, hand on his shoulder.

"Anders," Fenris said, gently, taking him firmly by the hand and tilting his chin up. "Look at me."

"I'm sorry," Anders whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Fenris assured him. He looked at Hawke imploringly.

"You didn't upset anyone," Hawke added.

Careful quiet whispers from both brought Anders back to himself, and he allowed them to pull him into a hug. Fenris stepped away after a moment, letting Hawke hold Anders while he turned to address Sebastian.

"I appreciate your concern, Sebastian," he said with a sigh. "Perhaps I should have mentioned something before this got out of hand. I take no issue with Hawke and Anders together."

Isabela raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You know, if you ever wanted a female companion-"

"It's not like that," Hawke said immediately. He knew they would run into problems, that explaining the situation to their friends would be difficult. But right now he supposed the biggest complication was Sebastian, who was staring at them with scrutiny.

"So you are…" Sebastian looked extremely uncomfortable, crossing his arms and glancing from Fenris to Anders, who was still in Hawke's arms. "No longer together?"

"We are," Fenris said. "I don't expect you to understand, but I assure you, I'm not being hurt."

He was about to speak again when Sebastian shook his head. "I have to go. My apologies for misunderstanding."

"Sebastian-"

But he'd gone, and Fenris hesitated, moving to the open door.

"Well, tonight just got a lot more interesting," Varric said, refilling his mug.

Fenris looked at Hawke, who shook his head. "Give him time to sort it all out," Hawke said. "Then talk to him once he's calmed down." He glanced over at Varric and Isabela, who were still watching with rapt interest. "Let's go home," he muttered. "Sorry to interrupt the game," he said, raising an apologetic hand to Varric and Isabela, who waved him off.

They left the Hanged Man together, and Hawke could only guess how Varric would write this into his next story.


	7. Chapter 7

"Fenris?"

"Go to sleep, Hawke."

Hawke sighed. He wasn't tired, though he guessed it was rather late. Anders hadn't wanted either of them to leave after the upset earlier that evening. Hawke was loath to take Fenris to what he was starting to think of as his and Anders' bed, so they'd settled in Anders' room in the estate. It was reminiscent of the night they'd spent together after Justice destroyed the master bedroom. And Anders still tossed and turned. Right now, he was curled up tightly against Hawke's side, a death grip on Fenris's arm.

Hawke shifted onto his side and propped his head up so he could Fenris beyond Anders. "I am sorry about what happened with Sebastian," he said quietly.

"It was inevitable that the others would find out," Fenris said, surprisingly agreeably. "Though I had hoped it would've taken a bit longer."

"I never thought I'd end up in a situation like this," Hawke admitted.

"I'm coming to understand that 'normalcy' is what you make it, not what anyone else deems fit."

"That's pretty pragmatic coming from you."

Fenris huffed, and Anders shifted, turning over to face him, nuzzled into his bare chest. Hawke reached up and gently stroked his back, tracing the thin scars. Anders arched into the touch.

"Mage," Fenris said exasperatedly, "are you awake?"

There was a pause, then, "No."

Hawke laughed and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I'm sorry if we woke you."

Anders covered a yawn and turned to his back, smiling tiredly. "I don't mind. I like this."

"It's not so bad," Hawke admitted. "And Fenris doesn't take up nearly as much room as the dog."

Fenris scowled as they laughed. "I suppose… this sleeping arrangement can continue to be acceptable. Until I grow tired of Hawke's snoring."

Anders reached up to pull Fenris down for a kiss. Hawke watched, feeling the same arousal he felt the first time he saw them together this way. Unguarded. Affectionate. In love. He wondered if he looked that way when he kissed Anders. Fenris pulled back with a quiet growl and said something in Tevene. Anders responded, and Fenris scoffed.

"I really should learn the language," Hawke said, feeling slightly left out.

"He told me I'd better stop or else he wouldn't be able to," Anders translated. "To which I said I didn't care."

Hawke felt a blush rise in his cheeks at the visual brought to mind. Anders and Fenris together in his bed, with him watching. It toed a thin line they'd yet to approach. Fenris never seemed interested in him sexually, and Hawke felt similarly. Their continued friendship was built on constant bickering and how thoroughly they frustrated one another, and of course their mutual love for Anders. Though he did trust Fenris with his life, and he knew Fenris felt similarly. It was simply a different sort of relationship than he had with Anders. But the elf wasn't repulsive. In fact, he was quite attractive when he wasn't being so insufferable.

"I wouldn't mind," Hawke offered.

"No," Fenris muttered, now lying on his other side, facing away from them.

Anders sighed but settled down, scooting until his back met Hawke's chest. Hawke wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Maybe another time," Hawke muttered into the back of Anders' shoulder.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when he was woken again by a rhythmic movement, the press of Anders' ass against his groin. He moaned softly and Anders responded, tilting his head back at an awkward angle for a kiss. His smalls stretched uncomfortably and Anders reached down to shove them from his hips. A bit of scuffling and they were gone, abandoned at the foot of the bed. Anders was already naked and moving against him faster now. Hawke sighed, scooting down so he could press his cock between Anders' thighs, gritting his teeth as it brushed against soft flesh.

"Oh," Anders whimpered, legs spreading. "Oh… I want it in me."

It was impressive how those words brought Hawke back to full consciousness and arousal. He and Anders had been taking things very slowly, Hawke not quite sure how to proceed. And now, tonight, when Fenris slept quietly in the same bed… the temptation was overwhelming. He felt the thrill of the possibility getting caught though he knew the consequences would be miniscule. He could handle an angry, glowy elf glaring and shouting at him in exchange for this.

"How do I…" Hawke whispered.

"Lotion, in the drawer," Anders replied, still rocking against him. "I'll show you how."

Hawke pulled himself away to fumble in the nightstand drawer and found the pot with the elfroot salve. He wondered if this was the reason Anders kept it around, or if he had more practical healing uses for it. Though he didn't care enough to ask, and simply handed it to Anders. Anders opened it, scooping some out, bringing his hand back to his cleft.

"Just do this," he said. "A finger."

Hawke was nervous, but his own hand joined Anders' and he felt the puckered entrance. The lotion had a woodsy scent, smooth and cool, and worked well for its purpose. Anders brought his knees up, and Hawke slowly pushed his finger inside. Anders groaned, and Fenris shifted. Hawke froze.

"Please," Anders whispered. "Please don't stop."

Hawke resumed until his finger was buried. It felt different. Odd, but very tight. He'd never done this before, even with a woman, and regretted not taking the opportunity with Isabela, if only to educate himself.

"Another," Anders urged him.

Hawke accepted a bit more of the lotion, and Anders squeezed his hand encouragingly. He pulled back just a little to press the tip of his middle finger inside as well when Fenris shifted, muttering groggily.

"Anders?"

"Fenris," a breathy plea.

Fenris opened his eyes. The covers were tangled, kicked aside, and even in his half-asleep state, Fenris could see what they were doing. His lip curled, but before he could say anything, Anders pulled him close for a kiss. Hawke felt that desperation, the needy desire as Anders kissed Fenris breathless at the same time he pushed himself down against Hawke's fingers.

Fenris pulled back. "Curl your fingers," he ordered in a heady tone.

It didn't immediately register that Fenris was talking to him. Hawke looked over, and Fenris was removing his own pajama bottoms and smallclothes. 

"I…"

Fenris' head snapped up, glaring at him though it was missing its usual sharpness. "It seems this is inevitable. I'm determined to make sure he gets the most out of it. Curl your fingers," he ordered again.

Hawke did, finding a small silken knot of muscle. Anders tightened around him and clung to Fenris, whispering pleas in both Tevene and the trade tongue. Fenris gently stroked his arm, hand coming down to rest on Anders' hip. He hesitated, then his own fingers joined Hawke's. Anders clenched, then relaxed, pushing himself down, begging for more. Hawke could hardly believe it. He felt Fenris's fingers, long and thin against his own blunt and calloused, Anders between and under them, face buried in Fenris's chest.

"Take him slowly," Fenris said, removing his hand, pulling Anders' leg up and over his own. "No matter how much he begs."

_Maker,_ Hawke thought, _this is happening._

Hawke removed his fingers causing Anders to whine, and accepted the pot of lotion that Fenris offered. He stroked himself slowly before adding just a bit more. It was messy, but he had no desire to hurt Anders. He couldn't see the other mage's face as he pressed the tip of his cock to his entrance, but Fenris was watching intently, lips slightly parted. Satisfied apparently that Hawke would follow his instructions, Fenris reached down to press his own erection against Anders' neglected cock. More lotion was added to ease the friction, and Anders started to beg.

"More," he whined. "Hawke, please, more. All of it. I want it. Do it now."

"Maker," Hawke breathed. It took every ounce of control not to immediately thrust into him. Though it wasn't the most ideal position, he realized they had so many nights ahead of them to figure it out. "Anders…"

Anders whimpered, gripping Fenris's shoulder, kissing him again as Hawke watched, sliding in slowly. He swallowed hard, buried to the hilt, enveloped in that tight heat. Fenris smirked as the kiss ended, thrusting forward, pushing Anders back against Hawke's chest. Hawke's hand slid down, meeting Fenris's. The elf didn't seem to care as Hawke wrapped his fingers around both their cocks, providing a firm slickness for them to thrust against.

It was sloppy and awkward and Hawke didn't care. The pull of magic forced Fenris's markings to light, the only luminescence in the otherwise dark room. Anders tried to move faster, pinned between them, begging and pleading for release. Hawke's hips snapped forward as Anders clenched around him. He thrust again and again, feeling the thrum of the lyrium song. His back ached, other arm pinned under Anders going numb, but he focused solely on the heat surrounding him with every thrust.

"I love you," Anders whispered, and Hawke wasn't sure if it was for him or for Fenris, but it didn't matter. 

It was perfect.

He came, eyes shut tight with pleasure. In the next few seconds, he felt someone's seed spill over his hand, and heard Anders whimper in surrender, shuddering between them. The thrusting continued for a few seconds, Hawke squeezing his fist, and Fenris cried out a moment later. 

No one moved, the only sound their heavy breathing. The scent of sweat and sex and elfroot permeated the air, and Hawke groaned, the arm pinned underneath Anders starting to tingle with pins and needles. He slowly pulled back and out, wincing as Anders let out a quiet cry.

"Shh," Fenris consoled him, kissing him gently.

As Fenris was currently occupied and Anders seemed disinclined to move, Hawke sought a clean cloth. His solo nights were easier. Come into a handkerchief, toss it in the hamper and roll over to go back to sleep. But, he mused to himself, he wouldn't trade it back. Not ever. He pulled his shirt from the floor and took care of himself first before wiping Anders off, then folded it and handed it to Fenris, who completed the cleanup.

Shivering, Hawke slid back into bed and pulled the covers up. Fenris tossed the shirt to the floor behind him and allowed Hawke to embrace them both, Anders sandwiched carefully and safely between them. Anders shifted, turning until he was facing Hawke, and pressed small, feather light kisses to his chest, fingers brushing the dark curls there.

"That felt amazing."

Fenris scoffed, and Hawke grinned, feeling the compliment go straight to his ego. More than that, he was warm and content. The others could speculate on their relationship, call it strange or weird or wrong (though he knew his friends at least would be happy for them). There was a certain peace he felt, lying there, and when his hand slid lower and Fenris took it firmly, he knew somehow that the elf felt the same.

They looked at each other, eyes meeting for a moment in the darkness. Fenris smirked and turned slightly into the pillow before closing his eyes. Anders' breathing evened out, and Hawke felt the fingers around his relax. They were both asleep, and he yawned widely before dropping off as well, deciding he'd ponder about the complexity of their arrangement later.

Or not.


	8. Chapter 8

Fenris left in the morning to speak to Sebastian, and Hawke took advantage of his absence to make love to Anders again, this time in the master bedroom in private. Afterward, they took breakfast in bed before parting for the day, Anders to see to his clinic and Hawke to look after his errands. He put off one that took him to the chantry until nearly nightfall and as he was leaving, he caught sight of Fenris and Sebastian arguing. He wondered if they'd been having the same discussion that Fenris had sought to have when he'd left that morning.

"Interrupting anything?" Hawke asked, grinning as Sebastian glared at him.

Fenris scowled. "No. I was just leaving. My apologies, I would have been finished sooner but it seems Sebastian would rather spend the day avoiding me than having an actual discussion."

Hawke wished he could've been a fly on the wall for that conversation and regretted not trying to eavesdrop. "Anders had his own things to do today but I thought perhaps you and I could discuss last night over dinner?"

"Fenris, we're not finished with this conversation," Sebastian said.

"Then you should have been willing to speak to me sooner," Fenris said before he turned on his heel away from both of them. 

Hawke and Sebastian followed, the former drawing level with him as they approached the steps to Lowtown. Hawke reached out, gripping his friend's arm. He ducked the punch that was thrown to his head, already expecting it, and dodged the second one as well.

"Easy!"

"Leave me be, Hawke," Fenris snapped, before looking past him to Sebastian. "Sebastian, no. I do not wish to discuss this any further. I've finished speaking on it and my decision stands."

And he was off again, Hawke following him down the main steps into the Lowtown market. The sun was just starting to set and there weren't many people around now. Hawke was glad for that. There wouldn't be too many to witness this argument, awkward as it was. They rounded the corner and Hawke put out a hand against Sebastian's chest to stop him. Sebastian shoved it away.

"He said he doesn't want to talk," Hawke said.

"He doesn't want to talk to you either," Sebastian snapped. "Besides, you're hardly his friend now, are you? You don't respect his choices or decisions, you drag him into dangerous situations, you-"

"Aw," Hawke cooed. "That's so sweet. If I didn't know any better, Sebastian, I'd say you were jealous. Are you jealous? Because the bed's already full," he finished with a growl.

"How dare y-"

"Fenris!" cried a familiar voice.

Fenris hadn't stopped for the argument and was already several steps ahead. Anders stood at the foot of the steps, two Templars flanking him. Hawke turned, taking only a few seconds to assess the scene, and flew down the stairs, nearly banging into the first enchanter.

"Anders? Are you okay?" Hawke asked, shoving a Templar away from him, glaring murderously.

"This isn't your affair, Champion," Knight-Commander Meredith interjected.

Hawke whirled around, hearing her voice. He hadn't noticed her at first, nor the others, but he saw the gathering of Templars and mages now for what it was. A confrontation. Meredith was surrounded by a company of her Templars, a head shorter than the rest. Several had their swords drawn, ready for a fight. Behind the first enchanter, several other Circle mages had their staves drawn. Hawke ignored Meredith for the moment, looking back to Anders, who was his primary concern. Fenris seemed to have the same mindset and stepped up to his other side, reaching out. Anders shook his head and stepped back out of reach. He looked pained, almost desperate.

"There is no turning back. We've come too far."

"Clap the mage in irons and drag him to the Gallows."

A different voice, but one that sent shivers down Hawke's spine. He turned to see the bald pate of Ser Alrik, the dead blue eyes of the man who'd tortured so many mages. What was he doing there? It didn't matter. Hawke wouldn't let him anywhere near Anders.

"You will not touch him," Hawke snarled. "He's protected under Tevinter law. You wouldn't dare touch an Imperial magister."

Beside him, Fenris bristled. Though they never deigned to acknowledge Anders' official title, it was the one loophole in the law that kept him safe and out of the Gallows. Hawke would wield it as a weapon if he had to.

Alrik tutted. "We have evidence of him mixing illegal potions in an unlicensed clinic in Darktown. Several eyewitness and ex-patients have already testified." 

Hawke stepped up as Alrik moved forward, intent on taking Anders. "I won't let you take him."

"Step down, Champion," Alrik said cooly. "Or we'll take you as well for obstruction of justice. One more robe for the Gallows."

If not for Fenris's hand on his arm which he tried to shove off, Hawke likely have thrown himself at the Templar. 

Orsino scoffed. "This is ridiculous. Take him if you need to – this isn't about him. This is about the Kirkwall Circle, of which neither are a part of. Knight-Commander, you have no right-"

"I have every right, and you will not bother Her Grace with this!"

Sebastian came to stand next to the knight-commander. "What is going on here? Why do you need to see the grand cleric?"

A sudden rumbling noise drew everyone's attention to Hightown.

"There's no stopping it," Anders whispered. "There can be no compromise."

Before Hawke could ask what he meant, he and several others were thrown off their feet as a huge explosion rocked the area. The sky filled with a scarlet light, the smell of fire and smoke filling the air as they watched the chantry blast into pieces. In the shouting and confusion that followed, Hawke lost sight of Anders and Fenris. He heard Sebastian's anguished cry for Elthina. Meredith was bellowing commands at her men. His ears were ringing as he staggered to his feet in time to see Meredith stalk away. Orsino looked murderous, backing away from the group of Templars, his fellow mages glancing nervously around for an escape. Before he could react, Hawke felt his connection to the Fade abruptly cut off. A cleansing. He saw three mages fall quickly without their magic, Templars brutally surging forward and overwhelming them.

"Hawke!"

Fenris seized his arm and yanked him from the fray, parrying a blow with his greatsword before thrusting it into the neck of the Templar that dared attack.

"They've taken Anders!" Fenris shouted over the noise. "We have to move!"

Cold fury and fear gripped him at once and he forced himself to action. Around them he could hear the screams of others, the sounds of fighting. He kept his eyes firmly on Fenris, who seemed to know where he was going.

"Who took him?" Hawke called back.

"Alrik," Fenris snarled, markings flaring.

Hawke winced. He'd clenched his fists so hard, his fingernails bit painfully into his palms, a knee-jerk reaction to the name. He felt his magic return to him the further they moved from the main fight. How many mages would die tonight? Anders would not be one of them if he had anything to say about it. As much as he hated to leave the others without defense, he needed to get to Anders before Alrik could hurt him. Or turn him Tranquil.

They descended into Darktown, which seemed to be the only safe place at the moment. Nearly devoid of its usual whores and beggars who'd sought refuge in hidden alcoves and cramped passages, it took them a few minutes to find someone who could point them in the right direction.

"Templars, eh?"

Hawke thrust a sovereign into the woman's hand. "Where? Did they go to the sewers?"

Her eyes widened, the flash of gold disappearing into her pocket. "Down those steps, serah."

She confirmed his suspicious. Alrik was going to take him to be tortured under the Gallows. He ran with Fenris, following the familiar winding path under the city.

"How did he get to him so fast?" Hawke panted.

"In the blast," Fenris replied. "Alrik already had him manacled. I couldn't get to him in time before he pulled Anders away." He sounded angry with himself. "By the time the smoke cleared, I'd just managed to see them disappear around a corner."

Hawke pulled his staff from his back as they reached the archway, Fenris already clutching his sword in both hands. Fenris moved in first, leading the way past the cells in the room where they found Karl, and up the stairs. From somewhere ahead of them, they could hear a faint cry.

"No! Please!"

Anders.

Hawke sprinted down the corridor and kicked open the wooden door at the end. Alrik and two other Templars were wrestling Anders to a table, pulling his chains tight in order to tie him down. The first Templar had no time to react as Fenris's lyrium markings flared. He swung his sword sharply, cleaving the man's head from his body. Hawke thrust out a hand, catching the second with a force wave of energy that swept the man from his feet and threw him through the air, impaling him on a wall of spikes. He and Fenris turned to Alrik, who held a knife to Anders' throat.

Anders looked at them, wide-eyed and pleading.

"Not so fast," Alrik said calmly. "I told Meredith we'd be having a problem with you, Champion. And I was right. But I'm willing to make you a deal. Walk away now and leave this heretic with me and I won't send my men after you. You can flee the city."

"Fat chance," Hawke snarled. "Let him go."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"If you don't, I'll kill you where you stand," Hawke said, gripping his staff tightly. He could kill him with a spell before Alrik hurt Anders, he was almost sure of it.

Fenris took a step forward, and Alrik pressed the knife into Anders' skin, a droplet of crimson sliding down his pale throat. Anders pulled at the chains that bound him to the table.

"If you don't leave now," Alrik said, "I will kill your friend instead of just giving him the peace of Tranquility."

"He'd rather die!" Hawke exclaimed. "Tranquility is not peace. It's just something you Templars say to allow yourselves to sleep at night."

Alrik smirked. "I sleep quite fine regardless. Can you sleep, knowing you're defending a murderer? Or does the mighty Champion of Kirkwall not care about that?"

Hawke glanced to Anders, who looked at him pleadingly, then back to Alrik. He felt a knot of guilt in his stomach. His actions had allowed for this. The Chantry, the Grand Cleric. He looked to Fenris, who had his eyes on Alrik, sword at the ready. It was impossible to know what he was thinking, though he looked livid.

"No matter what he did," Hawke said finally, "he doesn't deserve to die at _your_ hands."

Fenris seemed to have the same idea, and lunged forward, markings flaring. Alrik raised an arm to defend himself, dropping the knife. Hawke lifted his staff to cast a haste spell, bolstering Fenris's movements. Alrik drew his sword, but Fenris pressed his own greatsword, pushing him back over Anders, still bound to the table. Hawke couldn't cast a spell without chancing a hit on all of them.

Alrik laughed. "So eager to defend him, elf? We've been keeping our eye on you," he panted, straining under Fenris's strength. "Would you kill me for a lover like him? Someone who uses illegal magic? Kills innocent Chantry members? I guess he's not so far removed from his master after all. A true Tevinter magister through and through. Maybe he'll collar you again if you let him."

Hawke's eyes widened and he raised his staff, but Fenris was faster. He phased completely, a lyrium ghost that sunk into Alrik. Alrik opened his mouth in a wide 'O' of surprise. He didn't have time to scream as Fenris solidified, occupying the same physical space as the Templar, exploding him from the inside out. Hawke turned quickly from the carnage, a piece of plate metal glancing off his shoulder as it flew. Anders cried out in pain and Hawke looked back.

Fenris was breathing heavily, covered in viscera, but seemed otherwise unhurt. He stumbled back and Hawke crossed the five steps to the table, pulling Anders' robes apart.

"Oh Maker's breath," he hissed. There was an extremely deep gash along his abdomen where the explosion caught him, and it was bleeding heavily. "Anders?" He was unconscious. Hawke swallowed his panic and channeled what healing magic he could. But he was never meant to heal more than broken bones and small cuts and burns. "Anders! Fenris, see if you wake him up!" he cried, panicking now as Anders' breathing slowed.

Fenris didn't move, frozen to the spot, staring.

"Fenris!" Hawke felt his mana drain as he tried again to heal. "Elfroot, anything! Anders…"

His chest stopped moving, blood pulsating as it flowed over Hawke's hands as Hawke tried in vain to stop it. Fenris stepped forward slowly, staggeringly.

"Is… is he…"

Hawke pressed two bloodied fingers to Anders' neck, trying to search for a pulse. He found none.

"Maker, no," Hawke whispered, his chest tightening. "Please… Anders. Fuck. Please."

"I didn't think…" Fenris started. "I…" But his grief went beyond words.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking down at Anders' lifeless body, pale and unmoving.


	9. Chapter 9

"We… we need to…" Hawke tried.

Fenris clenched his fists and nodded. He sheathed his sword, and Hawke settled his staff. He reached up to unclasp Anders' manacles. Nothing seemed to matter now. Not the Circle mages, not the Templars. He swallowed hard, the metal of the chains cool under his fingertips.

Anders' skin cracked with pale blue light and both he and Fenris took sudden, surprised steps back. Suddenly that blue light burst forth, bright as the sun, forcing Hawke to turn away, raising an arm to shield his eyes. Fenris cried out in pain, his lyrium brands responding in turn. He fell, covering his eyes and Hawke quickly knelt next to him. The light was gone a moment later and Fenris shoved him away.

"Anders," he gasped, bloodied hands covering his face. "Check…"

Hawke got swiftly to his feet, swaying as he nearly fell against the table. "Anders?" The healer's stomach was free of wounds. "Anders!" Hawke shook him gently.

Anders' head lolled to the side and he slowly opened his eyes. "Hawke?"

"He's okay!" Hawke called over his shoulder. He broke the manacles with sheer force of magic, helping Anders to sit up. "What was that? What happened?" Elation, sheer utter relief washed through him, replacing the grief from moments ago.

"Justice," Anders muttered, hand against his forehead. "His last gift to me. Another chance at life," he whispered, reaching down, hand over his stomach. "He spoke to me. In the Fade." He winced.

Fenris got slowly to his feet and stumbled to them. Hawke put a hand on his shoulder.

Anders reached up, touching the elf's eyes and sent a burst of healing magic. "Fenris…"

"Don't, I'm fine," Fenris said, though he seemed better for the healing spell. "Mage," he whispered, reaching up, cupping Anders' cheek. "Don't… ever do that again," he said sternly, though the relief was nearly palpable. "I am… so… it was my fault…"

Anders leaned into the touch before turning to kiss his palm. "Don't. It was Alrik. I… we need to get out of here," he said quickly. "We have to help the Circle mages."

Justice's power was indeed amazing, Hawke thought. Anders seemed to barely register any pain.

"We have to-"

Fenris shook his head. "Anders… That… was your doing?" he asked, his words stilted. "The Chantry…"

Hawke stayed quiet. He had no love for the Chantry or the people in it. Fenris though, had sought sanctuary there more than a few times. A quiet place of prayer and contemplation to help him through his hardships.

Anders lowered his eyes. "I am sorry I didn't tell you. Either of you," he added, leaning against Hawke. "I didn't think… I…"

"You can explain later," Hawke assured him. Now that Anders was out of danger, he felt the need to find his other companions. He didn't want to think about what Alrik said, or about his own role in the explosion. If Anders had told him, would he have agreed?

_Yes._

The fact that the thought came so quickly, so immediate, Hawke wasn't sure if it made him feel better or worse. Meredith would have allowed Anders to be taken. The Grand Cleric would have continued to sit idly by while Meredith ran Kirkwall into the ground. Was it the right choice, the path Anders had taken? Maybe. Maybe not. But he found he couldn't blame him. Not entirely. He'd finally done something, taken a step in ending mage oppression. Whether it was the right step or not, only time would tell.

"He can explain now," Fenris insisted.

Hawke expected Anders to retreat into himself at Fenris's tone. But Anders didn't wince, didn't back down, and didn't lower his eyes this time. He pushed away from Hawke and met Fenris's eyes, chin raised.

Fenris frowned. He seemed to recognize the confidence in Anders' expression. "Why?"

"I had to do something," Anders said, and though his voice was quiet, it didn't waver. "My cause, my purpose. Fenris, this was my entire purpose. The reason I left Kirkwall. I… everything that happened in Tevinter, everything that happened to us, it made me stronger. I had to do this. I had to make the world, everyone see that the Circle isn't a solution. That the Chantry – _both_ Chantries are wrong. Can't you see that?"

Hawke saw Fenris's jaw clench. Would Fenris leave now? He didn't think Fenris would fight either of them – and he would stop the elf if he tried to hurt Anders.

"Fenris," Anders said again, "I'm finished with compliance. Laws. Red tape. People believing that the Maker wants to punish me because I'm different. To lock me up or force me to become like the magisters just because of the gifts He gave me. Did you really think that's what the Maker would have wanted? Doesn't He talk about love and tolerance?"

There was a flash of something in Fenris's eye. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then tried again. "I… I suppose." His tone lacked surety, but he relaxed in his stance, then looked down. "I don't agree with it," he said finally. "There could have been another way."

"No, Fenris," Anders said, reaching out, touching his hand. "There was no other way. Just like there was no other way to break my chains than to remove Justice. I won't let either Chantry hurt people like us. Not anymore."

Hawke took a breath, waiting.

There was a long silence, then Fenris nodded. "We should flee the city," he suggested. "There will be others like Alrik who'll call for Anders' head."

"But-" Hawke started.

"No, Hawke," Fenris said firmly. "If you two wish to see this to an end… I will stand with you. But we need to leave. Now. A rebellion cannot be fought if its leaders are dead."

Hawke looked to Anders, who was frowning.

"The Gallows mages will be put to death," Anders said. "Meredith called for the Right of Annulment. We have to defend them."

"I'm with Anders," Hawke said at once. "Fenris?"

Fenris crossed his arms, uncomfortable under the gaze of both mages. His friends, his lovers. Hawke waited for his answer, taking Anders' hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Very well," Fenris said at last. "But this is foolish."

"But so very worth fighting for," Anders said, leaning in to kiss him.

Fenris took him around the waist and helped him off the table, handing him his fallen staff. "We're already under the Gallows. Let's follow the path up to see how we can assist."

Hawke gripped his shoulder, then pulled him into a hug. Fenris hesitated, but returned it awkwardly. Hawke laughed a little, pulling back. "If we get through this, you get to pick where we become fugitives."

Fenris scoffed. "Stop trying to console me, Hawke. You happen to be terrible at it."

"Are you two coming?" Anders asked, already at the door.

Hawke smiled as Fenris scowled and followed. Live or die, they would see this through to the end together.


	10. Chapter 10

There'd only been time enough to grab the essentials from Hawke's estate. The city was still in an uproar, but the trio used the confusion in the wake of Meredith's death to pack what they could. Fleeing was the only thing they could do now. Even if Cullen was standing down for now, even if the Templars were stained by Meredith's insanity and the Gallows shamed by Orsino's use of blood magic, no one would forget that it was Anders who caused the catalyst by destroying one of the oldest and largest buildings in Kirkwall, killing dozens.

They changed clothes, leaving their bloodied garments behind, and tugged hooded cloaks tightly around themselves. Hawke stuffed packs full of gold and food, and they were off again within a quarter of an hour, a quick word to Bodahn to alert Varric of their departure.

"Tell him I promise I'll write," Hawke said, without further explanation.

They'd nearly reached the side gate of the city, intent on hiking up the coast and through the mountains until they reached Tantervale. The Minater River would take them quickly to Antiva where they could go into hiding. They could retreat into Tevinter of course and find their refuge there, but Hawke wouldn't suggest it. He wouldn't want to put either of his lovers through that pain.

"Fenris!" someone called from behind them.

Fenris shoved Hawke, who'd turned to look, forward. "Keep moving."

"Fenris, wait!" It was Sebastian.

Hawke stopped, turning to block Sebastian from reaching Fenris. They stood, chest to chest as Hawke looked down at him. "Leave him alone," he ordered.

"I will not stand here and let you lead him down the wrong path," Sebastian said firmly. "Stand aside so that I may speak with him."

Hawke shoved him back hard. Sebastian stumbled but didn't fall.

"Hawke," Fenris said, stepping up. "Stop."

Hawke glanced back; Anders was looking anxiously toward the road ahead, then back to the impending conflict.

"Fenris, you can't possibly condone this," Sebastian pleaded. "He killed an innocent woman of faith. What if I'd been in the chantry when this happened?"

"But you weren't," Fenris said quietly.

"But what if I was? Would you still take his side?"

Fenris looked back to Anders, whose expression was pained. Hawke shifted the two bags on his back before looking up at Kirkwall, at Hightown. There were fires still burning, the only lights in the middle of a moonless night. They needed to get going quickly before the Templars or the Guard caught up with them.

"You weren't in the chantry, Sebastian. I do not honestly know what I would have done if you were. But you were not. I am… I cannot go with you to Starkhaven. My place is with them."

"Your _lovers_ ," Sebastian snapped. "You would choose them over your love for the Maker. Over everything. If you leave with them, you'll be a fugitive. Stay here, Fenris. Help me take care of those who were hurt by his selfishness. I swear I will vouch for you. You can have a life, Fenris."

Anders made a quietly pained noise and Hawke drew him close. He was about to say something when Fenris spoke.

"No," he said calmly.

Hawke was proud of him for not yelling, for not raising his voice. Had it been him, well, Sebastian would've ended up with a bloody nose or worse.

"I see what the Chantry is," Fenris continued. "Atrocities committed in the name of Andraste, in the name of the Maker. I am sorry for your loss, but I cannot stand with you, Sebastian. I cannot side with the Chantry."

"If you leave, if you don't hand Anders to the Templars, I swear I will return to Starkhaven and raise an army," Sebastian said coolly. "And we will find you. All of you," he added, looking to Hawke and Anders as well.

Hawke's blood ran cold. He backed up, putting Anders behind him defensively. Fenris stepped up slowly to Sebastian, and though he was shorter, slimmer, and not wearing nearly the amount of armor Sebastian was, Sebastian took one step back.

"I never expected you to understand how I feel, or know what they mean to me," Fenris said so quietly Hawke could barely hear him. "And I am sorry you think I hurt you by choosing to be with them. But they are my family, Sebastian, my friends. And if you hurt either of them, I swear here, now, in the eyes of the Maker, that I will rip you limb from limb. The only reason I don't do it now is out of the friendship we used to share. The respect I used to have for you. Do you understand me?"

Sebastian glared, lips pursed. He looked up at Anders, who was watching wide-eyed, then to Hawke, who was returning the glare in equal measure, then back to Fenris. "Very well. Should our paths ever cross again…"

"Then the Maker will decide our fate," Fenris finished. "Come," he said, staring at Sebastian a moment before turning to Hawke and Anders. "We must move quickly."

Hawke gave one last look at Sebastian. The glare had faded, a certain sadness now in those blue eyes. Before he could work up even an iota of sympathy for him, Hawke turned and followed the others down the path.

-

_**Eight Months Later**_

"It's Varric's latest book," Hawke said, removing his hood.

They'd been staying in an abandoned shack somewhere west of Highever, surrounded by forest. The nearest town was three miles off and large enough that the occasional hooded and cloaked figure buying food and provisions didn't draw too much attention. They alternated, with Fenris mostly staying in whatever dilapidated dwelling they were settling in. While Hawke's name drew looks, not many knew what the Champion of Kirkwall looked like. Anders' face was sketched on wanted posters across Orlais and the Free Marches. And a description of Fenris was passed amongst the Templars as well as being 'an elf of great interest.'

Fenris looked up from the broken table, one leg held up by a stack of uneven flat rocks. Anders pushed away his papers, working on the latest version of his manifesto to take the book from Hawke's hands. Hawke carefully put the rest of the packages down, pulling out an apple and tossing it to Fenris. He unpacked the rest of the food from the bag, storing it in the pantry which was enchanted to keep the rats out. They tried to use as little magic as they could, but it was one precaution they needed to take, as money was becoming more and more scarce. Another day or two here before they had to move on again, lest the Templars catch up. He winced, listening to the wind rattle the windows.

"It's going to rain again."

"Good thing we patched the hole in the roof then," Anders said, opening the book.

Hawke slumped on the frayed and lumpy couch in front of the small fireplace, grinning as Anders and Fenris came to join him. Anders settled between them, Fenris curled at his side, and Hawke listened as Anders read the opening chapter.

"Maker, he's really going to tell the whole story, isn't he?" Hawke groaned.

"Hush," Fenris admonished, nibbling on the apple while Anders continued.

Hawke huffed, but quieted. He closed his eyes, leaning against Anders' shoulder, his arm wrapped around him, fingers playing in Fenris's hair. While it wasn't exactly the life he'd imagined for himself, he would rather be here, on the run with them, than anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done!
> 
> I just wanted to thank you again (I feel like Merrill - "Oh I'm thanking you too much, aren't I?") for all the support and wonderful comments and everything. It seriously means a lot to know people are reading and enjoying my work. This story was so much fun to write with all its ups and downs and while I posted it fast, it really was a long labor of love (just over a month to finish it).
> 
> If you like Anders/Male Mage Hawke, check out Fire, Smoke, and Magic, my big damn retelling of DA2. And y'know. Feel free to tell me what you liked, what you didn't like about this story or that one or my new modern AU tale I'm currently working on. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Or just ramble at me about your OTP, that works too. I'd like to think I can fangirl with the best of them. ^_^


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